


Immortals Die Too, You Know

by LexiM02



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: GTA-verse again because it's the best, I Tried, angsty, the ending is bad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-03
Updated: 2017-02-03
Packaged: 2018-09-21 18:29:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9561467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LexiM02/pseuds/LexiM02
Summary: Ray leaves in the middle of the night, afterwards the crew finds a news article 40 years later that make them question the whole "immortality" thing.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! I got a new laptop, so I should be putting more messy, occasionally badly written fanfiction up here sooner than I was. This was written up at 6AM my time, finished when I didn't sleep at all the previous night. I've noticed sleep-deprived me apparently writes better than well-rested me, so this should be okay. Happy Reading!

Ray took a step down the penthouse’s creaky wooden steps, as quietly and gently as possible. It was 3 in the morning, after all. If one of the crew caught him doing what he was about to do, hell would break loose. He could finally do what he had been thinking about doing for the last three-was it four now?- years. 

Ray’s Converse-clad foot made contact with the step, and it creaked lightly, thankfully, mercifully, it wasn’t loud enough to rouse any suspicions. He had lived here for years, he knew where the weaker spots in the stairs were, and he couldn't afford to have them creak like that again. Although, since Ray was so light on his feet, he didn’t think it mattered too much. Either way, it wouldn’t be waking anyone up. Ray was paranoid, though. What he was about to do was big. Big enough that he may not have the rest of the crew ever talk to him ever again. Ray knew that in an immortal’s world, finding other immortals was the best thing he could have ever done. At first, Ray loved the crew, Jack took him in and the rest of the crew slowly formed like a little family. A violent, non-law-abiding, dysfunctional family, but a family nonetheless. Ray had lived countless lives, slain countless kings, been the knight in shining armour, bided his time waiting for something more, and he had never found it. Ray was finally leaving, no matter how hard it was. Plus, everyone left everything eventually, right?

Life was so hard when you couldn’t die. Death used to be something Ray feared so intensely that he had traded his soul with some evil dark force, something that refused to tell its name before a searing, white hot pain rip-tore through Ray, and he had a moment of panic, A moment of oh dear god, please don’t let this be what death feels like before he could live forever. It had been during the Civil War, Ray had thought, that he had turned. He was one of the youngest in the crew, and the others had turned sometime near then. Michael fought in the Civil War, and Ray remembered him animatedly telling tales of how he always had been asked, after being shot countless times, how on earth after four days of rolling in mud, essentially, he didn’t have any infection or disease. Michael laughed as he said “I can’t ever die, I’m too stubborn” and his nurses all thought he was insane. Well, except for one. Lindsay, her name was. Ray thought back to all the times Michael mentioned her, how he really did seem to love her with everything he had. Lindsay was a far back point on the graph that was Michael’s life. He didn’t like to talk about how she died. Ray had his suspicions, he bet that she met the fate of quite a few people on that battlefield. Ray never asked, though. He had countless girlfriends in his past, and he didn’t like to discuss them either. 

 

Ray got to the bottom of the steps and noticed the kitchen light was on. Crap, Ray thought, someone is going to catch me leaving. That would not be ideal. Ray ran through the list of people in the house. Geoff had passed out at about midnight. Jack went to sleep at 10, like a responsible adult. Michael was snoring deeply on th couch. He wasn’t sure if Gavin had come back yet, Ray knew black tie affairs always lasted late into the night. Ryan. Ryan never slept. Ryan had to be the one who was up right now, foiling Ray’s escape plans. Ray peered around the door and saw a waterfall of bright blond hair splayed across much too broad shoulders. That was Ryan, all right. 

Ryan was another issue. Ray was catching a wave of big, mushy feelings for Ryan. Feelings were bad, even though there would never be any of the kind of heartache Ray was used o, Ryan would never die by his side or age or even change in general, but Ray couldn’t afford to chance it. What if this whole @immortal@ thing actually had some form of time limit, like, oh, you’ve lived a thousand years, good for you, now die. Ray was in far too deep for that to turn out to be true. 

“Ray, I know you’re there. What’s up?”

Crap. Ryan was so incredibly perceptive that Ray had a hard time believing he wasn’t actually a vampire. Maybe those long blond locks hid a pair of eyes in the back of his head. Ray wouldn’t be surprised at all. Ray was never surprised by Ryan's scarily accurate perceptions and senses. 

“Couldn't sleep.”

“Can you ever sleep?”

“Yeah. I just choose not to.” 

“I guess it's good you can't die from sleep deprivation then, right?”

“Sure.”   
Ray stepped into the kitchen to see a mug full of tea on the table and an abandoned phone sitting beside an ashtray full of cigarette butts and ash. Ryan had turned during the renaissance, he was Ray’s age fifteen hundred years ago, and throughout that time period, Ryan had done what he called “death experiments.” Ryan did the most dangerous thing he could think of, just to test the whole @immortal@ thing. That died down to moderately trying to 

inconvenience his health. He took up smoking in the ‘70s, went to parties filled with cocaine and whiskey in the ‘80s, and took up recreational drug use of all kinds in the ‘90s. Ray guessed that Ryan figured, “I may as well, I can't die anyway” and did whatever he wanted to. The only residuals from his past rather reckless years were the smoking and drinking he indulged in, but Ray could hardly fault him for that. He had sold much worse to much better people. 

“What are you doing up? Another Animal Crossing binge? Or was it something not made for ten year old girls?” 

“Shut up.” Ray answered, just as jokingly as Ryan had just teased him. “I’ll have you know that Animal Crossing is also for ten year old boys, which is what I truly am at heart, like you should be.” 

“I beg to differ.” 

“Well, maybe adding childlike innocence would make you less menacing.” 

“I'm a mercenary. I'm supposed to be menacing. It's kind of in the job title.” 

Ray looked at Ryan across the table. Ryan had spoken of romancing endless amounts of noblewomen back in the days when the year didn't have four digits in it and Ray could see why. Startling icy blue eyes, chiseled features, and a smile that could melt hearts. His looks weren't all he had going for him, but Ray had fallen in love with Ryan's appearance first, since at the beginning, Ryan had few words for anyone. Over time Ray got to know him and he knew he was absolutely smitten from the word go. Ray watched as Ryan lit a cigarette and picked his phone back up, scrolling through an unseen something. Probably perusing a news site, as he often did. 

“You know,” Ray said before he could stop himself. “I might have a kind of thing for you.” 

Ray figured now was the time to say something. He would be gone like a flash in the night, so telling Ryan he loved him didn't seem like a bad idea. He would get his heart broken, he would leave, and he would never see Ryan again. 

What he didn't expect was for Ryan to smile lightly and place his hand over Ray's. 

“You know, I know you might have a kind of thing for me. I was waiting for you to say something. I kind of might have a bit of a thing for you too.” 

Ray definitely wasn't expecting that. 

Ryan put out his cigarette and walked over to Ray. 

“I'm going to bed. You should be, too. We have an early morning tomorrow, Geoff takes forever to plan things.” 

“Yeah.” Ray said. He didn't have the heart to tell Ryan he wasn't going to be here tomorrow, wasn't going to hear Geoff's plans, was never going to see them ever again. Ryan kissed Ray's forehead and left the room, mug of tea still sitting on the table. When he was sure Ryan had left, he set his apartment key, phone, and a pre written note on the table. He also stole a sip of Ryan's tea, but was only slightly disappointed to find it had gone bitterly cold. 

Ray surveyed the room one last time. He had made up his mind, and not even a love confession from Ryan could change it. 

Ray slipped out into the cold night, and was thankful that he couldn't contract hypothermia. 

 

The next morning was chaos. 

“He's gone.” Gavin confirmed after coming out of Ray's bedroom. 

“What do you mean, gone?” Geoff practically screamed. “He can't be gone, he's the best sniper Los Santos has ever seen! We need him!” 

“Uh, Geoff…?” Ryan said, picking up the note previously covered by Ryan's mug from last night. “He left a note.” 

“What does it say?” 

Ryan assumed his best reading-something-important stance. 

“Dear Crew

Guys

Ryan

To whom it may concern

I left last night. Don't bother going to look for me. Please, just let me vanish into the either ether. Just let me leave. I don't know if I'll be back, but if I'm not, then just leave it alone. Don't send Ryan's weird scary sort of terrifying associates or whatever after me. I'm not entirely convinced they won't shoot me on sight anyway so kind of counterproductive on your part. 

Best wishes

Sincerely

From

Goodbye, 

Ray.” 

Geoff was losing his mind. Ryan was choking on his own emotions. Had Ray really said What he did last night and then just...left? Had Ryan just dreamt the whole interaction? He couldn’t have just dreamt it up. He knew what he heard and he knew that Ray had said it. 

Ryan’s hands were shaking. Violently. He couldn't remember the last time he felt this crushed. It was a first time feeling, he wasn’t even this upset when Lady Margaret had been slain in front of him, and he was married to her for six years before that. 

It was because this had no obvious cause. This wasn't because of a rogue knight with a chip on his shoulder or a king who hated them or some unseen force that couldn't be stopped. Ray had walked out of his own accord. 

Ryan was acutely aware of the rest of the crew watching him. Nobody ever saw him expressing any emotion other than anger. The note was crushed and crumpled in Ryan's brutish fist. He didn't know how to react. He didn't know how he was reacting. There was a disconnect between Ryan knowing what he was feeling and feeling what he was feeling. That was common for Ryan, but right now it was something he could not afford to let his crew see. They might think he was even more psycho than they thought. 

Ryan could hear Geoff muttering to himself farther away and Gavin replying but he couldn’t hear specific words, just voices. Everything was a blur. 

Ryan only clued back in when he felt a hand on his shoulder and heard the unmistakable lilt of Gavin’s voice. Ryan was crying. He never cried. 

 

Ten years flew past. When time means nothing, you don’t pay attention to how long you haven’t seen someone. Ryan hadn’t seen Ray in ten years. The crew still held onto a sliver of hope that Ray would turn up again. Sometimes you just needed a few years alone, when you’re immortal and you get overwhelmed a few years in solitude could do wonders. 

The pain of Ray’s sudden departure had passed. Although it did still prickle and hurt a bit every once in awhile, most of the pain was gone. Ryan just had questions. Why? Where did he go? How long did he think about leaving? Did Ray ever really mean what he said? Of course, those questions never had any answers. 

It had taken some searching, but they finally found another immortal that wanted to join the crew. He was no stellar sniper, but he had another slew of impressive talents that were more than an asset to the crew. Jeremy was small in stature, excellent at hand-to-hand combat, and sneaky. The thing that really cemented his status was the time both Jeremy and Geoff got snatched by a rival gang. Nobody paid Jeremy any mind, and when they finally did, all that was left was an empty chair. With a remark of “that chair and I aren't that close,” everybody realized that in a room of twenty people, Jeremy had somehow disappeared in plain sight. After some stellar creeping around, Geoff and Jeremy were gone in less than an hour and nobody understood how the hell Jeremy had pulled that off. 

Ryan didn't have anything against Jeremy. He really didn't. There was no bad blood or anything, Ryan just didn't feel it necessary to really bond with Jeremy. Ray would return, he was sure of it. Although it would probably be alongside Jeremy, Ray was not lost to the world just yet. Ryan just knew it. 

 

Fifteen years later, Ryan wasn't sure that Ray was going to come back. Nobody had heard from him. Nobody saw him. Wherever Ray had gone, he had found a stellar hiding place. Despite his wishes, Ryan had asked an acquaintance of his to keep on the lookout for Ray, but apparently there were just too many skinny Puerto Rican men in their mid-to-late 20s with obnoxious facial hair and a propensity for sarcasm in the Los Santos cityscape. Ryan had cried for him, wished for his return so hard it hurt, seeked him out, but if this was a game, Ryan was finally tired of seeking only to never find the place where Ray had decided to hide. He understood, now. Everything Ray had said way back when must have been a lie. That was okay. Ryan had made amends with the fact that almost everyone he met found him to be horrifying and scary and he was most likely never going to find real, true love like he thought he had so many years ago, back when dysentery and cholera were big issues and nobody lived past 20. Finding love in the modern era was so much more complex. Although, now it was less “your father said I could marry you because you have a dowry of a herd of cattle and 20 chickens” and more “I just think you’re pretty,” but everything was so difficult to understand now. Maybe he previous prediction was wrong. Maybe Ray was lost to the world. Holed up somewhere, doing whatever it was that he did for however many years before meeting all of them. 

If Ray was happy, then Ryan was too.

 

How many years had passed since Ryan last thought of Ray was improbable to count. At this point, Ray had been gone for 30, maybe 40 years. Ryan’s hopes of him coming back were ridiculous notions that he had put to rest eternities ago. Gone were the days where Ryan was bitter and angry about the whole thing. Gone were the days where Ryan compared Jeremy to Ray, bitter that they weren’t the same people. That had been an issue for a very long time, RYan harbouring resentment the way a dragon harbours shiny objects. Through the years, though, Ryan had stopped seeing traces of his former friend in Jeremy. The two were as close as Ray and Ryan had been beforehand, and Ryan had learned a lot about the newest edition to the FAHC. He was a big fan of alt-rock and metal, he had no sense of dress, and he liked Pokemon. Jeremy also had a tragic backstory, but who amongst the Fakes didn’t? Ryan had heard snippets of it, his mother never being present, stunted growth due to malnutrition, a latent issue with many forms of schooling and education since nobody ever bothered to teach him to read, he’d had speech issues as well, and the only language he spoke until he was thirteen was ASL. Although, since Ryan also knew ASL, a byproduct of living in many places and putting on many faces, the two often found themselves deep in a conversation only the ther could understand. Despite his less-than-desirable childhood, Jeremy was still somehow always nice to everyone. Kind-hearted. Ryan hadn’t met a lot of people who always tried to be positive influences on the world, and Jeremy was a shining example. Jeremy was, in the simplest terms, a ray of absolute sunshine. He was the only one of the crew who could get Ryan to smile without physically injuring themselves. 

That morning was rainy and moody, a haze of something sad hanging over the whole city in the form of greyish smoggy clouds circling buildings in thick rings. Ryan got out of bed, not knowing what to expect of the day’s events ahead. He plodded slowly out to the living room to see that either nobody was awake yet, or nobody had come outside yet. 

Ryan then proceeded to eat his words as he saw the whole of the Fakes crowded around the island counter in the kitchen, murmurs echoing off the wood cabinets. He could see Gavin at the middle of it, and there was the white glint of a Macbook, harsh halogen light reflecting off the lid. 

“What the actual hell is going on here?” 

“Ryan, come read this.” Gavin all but commanded. Ryan was not one to avoid taking orders, but his stomach churned as he read the title: 

CAN IMMORTALS DIE AFTER ALL? 

“What is this?” 

“Just keep reading, you absolute mong. You’ll find out what it is.” 

Earlier this morning, the body of one believed to be Ray Narvaez, Jr. was found in the wreckage of a plane crash. Authorities have confirmed Narvaez to be one of the 17 dead in the wreck, the cause of which is still unknown. Local authorities have talked to some of Narvaez’s colleagues, who all thought that he was one of the famous Immortals, and that death was impossible for him. His family confirms that it is him, however, so one must question the true merit of what immortality is.

“That can’t be true.” 

“It has to be. All his family members are part of whatever the hell this mess we call immortality is. They know for sure.” Geoff chimed in. “Who could mistake their own son?” 

“So you’re telling me that Ray somehow found a way to die, even though he sold his soul to that...thing… for the confirmation that he would never die?”

“You got that right, kid.” 

Ryan was stunned more than he was shocked. Ray was the one to crack it.

Ray was the immortal who found out how to die. 

Ryan had to commend him. After forty years of radio silence, he still knew how to pull Ryan’s heart straight out of his chest and strum his heartstrings like a heavy metal guitarist whose hands have gone numb. But this didn’t break Ryan like Ray’s departure had. It only gave him a soft, sad reminder of what could have been. 

Ryan understood the sad, hazy, sleeplike fog around the city today. Even though Ray hated Los Santos, hated what it had become, Los Santos loved him. The city felt like a living, breathing person sometimes, especially when it lost one of its inhabitants.   
While the rest of the crew argued what Ray’s death meant for their own immortality, for their own existence, Ryan stared out the big pane window that overlooked the city, and for the first time, he felt at peace. He finally had answers as to where Ray was, but just as Ryan looked down to the street below, he saw a flash of someone in a purple hoodie, and all the memories came flooding back.


End file.
